


trials

by Wildehack (Tyleet)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Brainwashing, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, child endangerment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 11:19:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5826550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyleet/pseuds/Wildehack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the first in a series of trials that Ben knows will end in the Ordeal, which will either kill him or make him a Knight of Ren. Ben is confident he will pass the test, although his Master has not yet given him the details of the trial. When the time comes, you will know, his Master told him, and Ben is determined to be ready.</p>
            </blockquote>





	trials

**Author's Note:**

> There's no graphic violence here, but this is a VERY DARK STORY. Fair warning. Okay. Let's go.

 When Ben is sixteen, his Master lets him leave the temple, the first time since his training began. It’s the first in a series of trials that Ben knows will end in the Ordeal, which will either kill him or make him a Knight of Ren. Ben is confident he will pass the test, although his Master has not yet given him the details of the trial. _When the time comes, you will know_ , his Master told him, and Ben is determined to be ready.   
  
He demands mission briefings from Admiral Linro on the bridge every day, trying to prepare for whatever may come, and is told the same thing: while they are weapons-capable, this is a training vessel. Their mission is to prepare and condition new troops for service in the First Order’s army. No action is expected in the course of this enterprise.   
  
”So you think,” Ben tells the admiral darkly, enjoying the way she flushes with irritation. It’s a beautiful new feeling--watching the people who hate him grapple with the knowledge that he’s too powerful to harm, or offend. It’s a little intoxicating--as though a year with his Master has transformed Ben from a frustrated child into a leader of men. No one fails to take him seriously, now.   
  
The trouble is, nothing much really happens for the first few weeks. They sail smoothly from routine mission to routine mission, and after a while even the novelty of traveling on a _Star Destroyer_ (just like the ones his grandfather has shown him in visions!) starts to fade. He’s finally being given a chance to prove himself, and there’s nothing to prove. He takes to wandering the ship at odd hours, staring morosely out of the viewing deck and willing something to happen. He walks aimlessly through through Security and Engineering just to see the techs bite their tongues bloody when they remember they can’t tell him to go away, or not to touch anything. 

Doubt begins to creep in. He remembers the first test his Master set him, after he arrived at the temple: it had been four months since he ran away, and he’d been sick with missing home, and humiliated by his own weakness. He’d dreamed about Yavin 4 every night, waking to find his pillow wet with tears, and he knew his Master could sense it in his mind, the following morning.   
  
 _Do you miss your mother_? his Master had asked, and of course he denied it. He was _fifteen_ , and he’d chosen his destiny, the path he would walk. He would never admit to missing his _mother_.   
  
But of course the Supreme Commander reminded him that he should never lie to his Master, and when the agony faded enough so that Ben could open his eyes without wanting to flinch at the light, he found himself in a strange room he’d never seen before, with a viewscreen on one wall. It was live, although he could see at once that his video connection was off. Mom was on the screen. She looked exhausted, with huge bags under her eyes, and there were worried lines on her forehead that weren’t there, the last time he saw her.   
  
“I can hear you breathing,” she said dryly, and the sound of her voice nearly broke him. She was his _mom_ , familiar and ironic and ringing of home, comfort, safety. “Why don’t you turn on your feed and tell me how you got this frequency?”   
  
Ben drew in a shuddering breath and hugged his own chest, his throbbing ribs. It would have been easier if he hadn’t still been in pain--but he was, he was cold and he was hurt and he was homesick and he wanted, desperately, to turn on the video feed. He wanted his _mom_.   
  
“Seriously,” his mom said, her face creasing into familiar exasperation. “Who is this? If this is a pervert thing, I’m gonna come after you.”   
  
Ben dragged himself over to the control panel, his hand hovering over the connection. “Sorry,” he said in a voice that creaked strangely, and his mom turned white. It was kind of horrible to see.   
  
“Ben,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “Ben, tell me--”   
  
With a strength Ben didn’t know he had, he slammed his hand down on the power, cutting her off, collapsing her shocked face into darkness.    
  
His Master was proud of him, that day. Ben basked in the reassurance that he had made the right decision, that he was strong enough to make the necessary sacrifices.   
  
He doesn’t think this test will run along similar lines--surely he’s proven his loyalty, since then? His Master can’t think that he’d still be tempted to run back to Yavin 4. But that’s about the only thing he can think of that he’d be tempted to _do_ , on a starship where nothing interesting seems to happen, ever.   
  
One night his wandering takes him to the training deck. He hasn’t ventured there before. He’s irritated by the reminder that he’s essentially still at a school, even if it isn’t one he’s part of, and he doesn’t like the trainee Stormtroopers. He’s never been great with kids.   
  
There are very few troopers out, at this hour. The children are either sleeping or working guard shifts. He sees one child about four feet tall nodding off at her post, and skims the surface of her mind idly for her designation, so he can report her later. But for the most part, the halls are quiet, still. He finds himself hesitating at a closed door, and realizes that the Force is tugging gently at his awareness. It occurs to Ben with a thrill that this could be it, this could be the test.   
  
The door slides open and he steps inside--to find the least quiet room in the whole floor. The room is full of bassinets, maybe twenty or thirty, human infants in every one. They’re all crying. There’s only one trainee, his helmet abandoned on the floor, looking harassed. He’s dark-skinned, dark-eyed, maybe eleven or twelve. “Sir!” he says, trying to salute while holding a wailing baby in his arms.   
  
Ben steps further into the room, letting the door shut behind him. “What is this place?” he demands, wrinkling his nose at the smell emanating from the nearest bassinet.   
  
“It’s the créche, sir,” the trainee says, clearly torn between answering Ben’s questions and continuing to soothe the baby. “All new recruits stay here, until they’re about three, when they get assigned to their first unit. I’ve got duty for the next six hours.” 

“Alone?” Ben clarifies, looking around the room. Surely there were too many infants for one child to sensibly look after, especially for such a long time.   
  
“Yes sir,” the trainee tells him, and winces as the baby in his arms spits up down the back of his uniform. “They don’t usually cry this much--it’s just that FO-1123 here set them off, and now they’re awake and crying because they’re tired, or they’re crying because of the noise, or maybe because they’re hungry, or they need changing. Um. I’ll get to them all, though.”   
  
Ben considers this. He can still feel the Force tugging at him, but it’s hard to concentrate on exactly where it is with all the screaming. He concentrates for a minute, and muffles all the crying at once, by sending the infants into a deep sleep. It’s a trick he learned for use in combat, but it should work just as well here. The sudden silence is deafening.   
  
The trainee looks at him with wide, shocked eyes. “Did you do that,” he blurts out, forgetting the honorific. The baby in his arms has gone limp. “Is--are they okay?”   
  
Ben nods, shortly. He still can’t place the source of the pull he feels, although he knows he’s close. He steps closer to the trainee--the only being in the room capable of giving him answers. “What’s your designation?”   
  
“FN-2187,” the trainee tells him, and at Ben’s pointed look, he flushes and adds, “--Sir.”   
  
“Do you like créche duty?” Ben asks, scowling a little. He knows it’s a stupid question, but he doesn’t know what else he should be asking. Is this the place my Master meant? Is this where I find my test?   
  
“I like it all right, sir,” FN-2187 says cautiously. He cups the back of the baby’s head carefully, and lies it back down in its crib. “It beats sanitation duty.”   
  
“What can you tell me about these recruits?” Ben asks, and FN-2187 straightens up a little, clearly used to pop-quizzes.   
  
“This is a new batch from Socorro,” FN-2187 reports. “The oldest one’s three months old. The youngest one is FO-1100 over there, at one week old. They’re all doing well with conditioning so far. The captain says we’ll transfer them to the facility on Telos when this rotation is over, sir.”   
  
Ben can’t imagine what conditioning looks like for a three month old. He steps away from the trainee, and starts walking down the line of bassinets.“Are there,” he begins, and clears his throat. “Any standouts?” Any reason he should still be feeling this insistent pull, as though there’s an invisible line hooked through his ribcage, keeping him taut and waiting?   
  
FN-2187 follows him down the line of cribs, staying a few steps behind. “I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”   
  
“Have you participated in conditioning?” Ben demands, hoping it’s the right question this time.   
  
“Of course,” FN-2187 says, uncertainly. “But just, you know, the lullabies and stuff. They won’t begin light treatments until they’re at least five--the procedure changed after a few in my batch started developing seizures. Sir.”   
  
Ben pauses idly by one bassinet, looking in at the sleeping child. She’s human--they’re all human, no aliens are ever accepted into the program--with freckles scattered across her tiny nose. An equally tiny hand is curled up against the frail shell of her ear. “What are the lullabies about?” he asks.   
  
“Loyalty,” FN-2187 says softly. He comes up to the other side of the bassinet, so he and Ben are both looking down at her. “Trusting in something bigger than you. How safe and good it feels, being part of something. How good it will be to pay back the debts we owe, when we’re old enough.”   
  
Ben pushes down a ripple of nausea at the idea that anyone would view this pitiful excuse for a childhood as a _debt_. He turns to look at FN-2187. “Do you honestly believe those things, FN-2187?”   
  
“Yes, sir,” FN-2187 says, looking straight into Ben’s eyes. “I’m grateful to the First Order. I”m happy to die in her defense.” The baby between them tosses in her sleep, and wakes with a cry. FN-2187 rolls his eyes, abruptly a child again, and Ben loses the disturbing sense that he is speaking to an equal. “That’s FO-1108 for you, sir,” he says, reaching down to scoop her up. “She’s up every fifteen minutes or so, mind-tricks or not.”   
  
Ben frowns. The tug of the Force is sharper, now, and he realizes it’s connected to the child. “Give me the girl,” he says.   
  
FN-2187 hesitates, holding her against his chest. “She’ll probably need a change, sir, if you’ll just let me--”   
  
“Now,” Ben snaps, and FN-2187 gives him the girl, biting his lip.   
  
As soon as Ben touches the baby, he knows that she is the test. She’s Force-sensitive, practically humming with potential. “Thank you, FN-2187,” he says, and even to his own ears his voice comes out strange. “That will be all.” Ben settles the baby more comfortably in his arms, and starts walking to the door.   
  
“Sir!” FN-2187 sounds alarmed. “Where are you taking her? She’s my responsibility until the shift turns over--I don’t think the captain would want her to leave the créche, and I don’t--”   
  
Ben speaks over his protests. “It’s all perfectly in order, trainee,” he says mechanically. “I’ll clear it with your supervisor tomorrow. If she gives you any trouble, send her to me.”   
  
He leaves, and FO-1108 cries and writhes in his arms, provoking curious looks as he walks the length of the ship, all the way back to his quarters. When he gets there, he puts her down on the bed, watching her blink up at the new ceiling.   
  
He knows his Master wants Force-sensitive children. He’s seen them come into the temple, and he knows some of them go on to become Knights. He also knows that not all of the children leave the temple. Some of them go into his Master’s rooms and never come out. It’s one of the things he hasn’t let himself think about, and of course his Master knew that, of course he would make Ben confront his dread.   
  
He looks at the baby, her pink toes, her bald head. With a swell of misery, he wishes he shared FN-2187′s belief. In the absence of belief, Ben only has hope. He hopes with all his heart that he’s right, that every sacrifice will be worth it in the end. When he falls asleep, sitting up in his chair, he dreams again of his mother’s face on the viewscreen, white and terrified.    
  
In the morning, Ben makes arrangements to return home, to the temple.  
  
 He passes the test. 

**Author's Note:**

> I read somewhere on tumblr that Ben was FIFTEEN when he left to join Snoke. I'm imagining a slightly different sequence of events, here, where Ben doesn't destroy the Academy at fifteen, but instead runs away to join his Master, gets trained/brainwashed up, and then destroys the Temple as the culminating event in his Sith Mastery Trials (or whatever.) Like, you probably have to build up to murdering all your friends, a little. 
> 
> I also like the idea that he doesn't take the name Kylo Ren until after he kills everyone he loves. Partially because it's a "Now You Have Earned It" deal, but also because how could he do that, and stay Ben? 
> 
> Feedback, as always, is v. appreciated. I'm wildehack on tumblr if you ever want to come talk about how miserably Ben Organa has fucked up his life. <3


End file.
